


Viridian

by Elfflame



Series: Viridian [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry, Community: daily_deviant, M/M, Prostitution, Top Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-13
Updated: 2006-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/pseuds/Elfflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco’s not excited about his new life, so his father shows him a way to spice it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Viridian

**Author's Note:**

> Actually part of a much longer fic idea I had. I may end up doing more of this, though likely outside of D_D, just because most of it won’t even get this smutty. This section is complete on its own, even if the rest never gets done. Yes, I am doing top!Draco here. Not my norm, but within the scope of the story, it works. Thank you to Amberry and Ragdoll for looking this over for me.

The party celebrating his engagement to Pansy was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of his life, right up there with the arrival of his Hogwarts acceptance letter, getting his wand, and being sorted into Slytherin. Instead, he stood on a balcony that looked out over the celebrants in the ballroom, watching Pansy dancing with her cousin Miles. And he was feeling quite decidedly ill.

The balcony was hidden from the party-goers; a spot for those Malfoys who had come before to know precisely when the best moment to make a grand entrance was. He wasn’t hiding there. Malfoys did not hide, after all. They simply planned strategic retreats. Draco desperately wanted one right now. Actually, he just wanted his nerves to stop making him feel ill. At least, he hoped that was all that they were.

He didn’t even hear footsteps behind him. Just felt the hand clasp his shoulder. “Draco.” If he hadn’t already been controlling his reaction to the evening so rigidly, he would have jumped.

“Father.” He turned to the older man, his expression mildly inquisitive. Despite the fact that Lucius had spent time in Azkaban, he seemed entirely untouched by it. When Draco had redeemed himself in the final battle, his requested reward had been for his father to be released from the Wizarding prison.

There were conditions, of course. Lucius was not allowed into the Ministry without a pre-arranged meeting. He was also required to have an MLE escort with him at all times while he was on the premises. Nor was he allowed into Knockturn Alley under any circumstances.

Once a month, an Auror came to the Manor to check Lucius’s wand and see what spells he’d cast with it in the preceding month. Anything suspicious was cause for him to be dragged into the Ministry for a formal inquiry, and any Dark spells would have him shipped right back to Azkaban.

Lucius was also required to stay away from certain types. Most specifically, his former associates. Thankfully, this did not include his son nor their close family friend Severus Snape. Both had proved themselves in the final battle, and had therefore been cleared of any wrongdoing as Death Eaters. They were still looked down on for accepting the Dark Mark at all, but otherwise, they were considered full and respectable members of society.

Lucius had accepted the limitations easily. Too easily, really. Draco knew he must have some sort of plan up his sleeve. Especially since he seemed to accept so willingly the role that Professor Snape had played in the war. It was obvious to Draco he was up to something. Draco was certain he didn’t want to know what his plans were, really. It was simply easier if he could swear under a truth potion that he had no idea what his father had been up to if questioned. He did not want to end up being the reason he was sent back to Azkaban, after all.

He watched as Lucius turned to look out at their guests. “You’ve made an excellent choice, Draco,” he said in a quiet voice. “She truly will make a perfect Malfoy wife.” He eyed the girl’s curvaceous form before adding, “You might even be able to get more than one son from her. Though I do recommend you keep it at two. We Malfoys tend to have difficulty sharing,” he finished with a twist of his lips that told Draco he was amused.

“Thank you, Father. I’ll keep that in mind,” he responded in an amused tone of his own. “Still, this was not how I had expected things to be.”

Lucius turned to look at him. “And what did you expect, Draco?”

It was a long time before Draco managed to gather his thoughts enough to respond. “I just thought I’d be more pleased, or perhaps more at peace, or maybe excited, even. Not this…” He made a face, not even sure how to describe what it was he was feeling.

“Discontent?” Lucius suggested.

Draco glanced at him. “Yes. That’s it exactly.”

Lucius smiled, and for a second, Draco thought he saw something predatory in his eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure. Then a card was in his hand, and he was holding it out to Draco. “Perhaps you simply need a distraction. Go spend a week in the London flat. Sow a few wild oats.” He indicated the card. “This one’s quite well trained. Trained them myself, in fact. And then set him up in business. I think you’ll be quite amused by him.”

Draco’s mind was already whirling with the idea that his father was setting him up with a prostitute—high-class or not, the idea was odd enough—but the dual “hims” made him lose what little composure he retained. “‘Him?’” His voice cracked, but he was too alarmed by what his father had said to pay that any mind. “You think I should…” He groped mentally, lost for words for a moment. “With a man?”

“Why not? So long as you settle down and have a proper heir, what does it really matter who you spend your time with?”

“And you…” He just couldn’t say it. It was too surreal, even to talk about this with his father, let alone realizing it was something his father engaged in himself.

Lucius’s lips spread into a smirk. “There is nothing wrong with indulging in physical pleasures, Draco. So long as you are attending to your duties, and these sorts of activities stay out of the public eye, there is no reason not to. Try him. It might not be what you are looking for, but you never know.”

So, late afternoon of the next day found Draco settling in at the London flat. He’d been unable to get his father’s words out of his head. Images had been flooding his mind all night. No boy could live in a dorm room for as long as he had at Hogwarts without seeing one or more of his dorm-mates naked. Draco certainly had. In the dorm room; in the showers; even in the Quidditch locker room. Now that Draco had opened his mind to the idea, he found that he had been subconsciously cataloguing the male form for years. It wouldn’t be such a big deal to find out if this was something he might enjoy, would it?

It took him a day to convince himself, and another to prepare himself. This might be a whore, but he was a high-class whore, and besides, Malfoys never looked less than perfect, even when hiring a whore. Or so he assumed. It wasn’t as though he’d done this many times before. Even so, Malfoys never looked less than their best if they could help it.

Once he decided he was ready, he pulled out the card his father had given him. It read:  


  
_**James Viridian**  
To call, simply tap the card with  
your wand and call out my name.  
I will be there within moments. _   


Draco wondered if the card somehow employed the same magic as that of the Dark Mark. He supposed it made sense, if his father had helped the guy start up his career.

He took a deep breath and tapped the card, calling out the name clearly, then sat back to wait.

The card didn’t lie. It wasn’t even a minute later when a young man appeared in the centre of the room. He was slender and dressed all in black, matching the shade of his dark, chin-length hair, which hung in his face. He looked around Draco’s own age, and vaguely familiar, though Draco couldn’t place him. When he spoke, Draco was _sure_ he knew him, but still couldn’t be sure where from.

“Twice in as many weeks, Malfoy? Wifey kick you out of her bed again?”

Draco repressed an undignified snort. “I’d rather you didn’t mention my parents, if you don’t mind,” he returned.

The guy’s head jerked up, and Draco got a glimpse of a pale shocked face and very familiar bright green eyes before the head dropped again, the shaggy hair hiding it even more. One glimpse had been enough, though. Draco rose from his seat, and advanced on him, certain now that he knew who it was, despite the fact that he wasn’t wearing glasses. Though how his father had managed this… “Potter?” He took the other young man’s chin in his hand and pulled it up so that he could see.

Those green eyes darted away from his. “Not sure who you were expecting, Malfoy, but the name’s James Viridian. If you’re looking for someone else, I could leave…” He tried to pull away, but Draco had a firm grip on him.

Who did Potter think he was fooling? At least now Draco understood his father’s comment about being amused by him. “You honestly believe I’ll be fooled by you insisting upon another name?” Those eyes were glowering at him now, and he felt excitement shiver down his spine. Oh, yes. He was going to enjoy this very much.

“If you want anything, the name’s James. Otherwise, you can find your fun elsewhere.”

If that was the way they were going to play it, that was just fine with Draco. So long as Potter knew he wasn’t fooled in the least. “If you say so, ‘James,’” he said smugly. The glare Potter gave him only made it that much better.

Draco released him. “Follow me, then,” he said, turning his back on Potter and moving towards the Master bedroom, knowing that Potter would follow. He turned to look once more only when he’d actually reached the silk-draped bed, and saw Potter, motionless and wary on the threshold to the room. “Well? Come on, let’s see what I’m buying for the evening,” he said, unable to keep a smirk from his face.

He had expected the fiery temper he remembered from Hogwarts, and found himself gaping as Potter began to undress without so much as blinking at him. He’d seemed scrawny when he’d come in, but even as slender as he was, he was still quite well-formed. Long, lean and not a bit of extra flesh on him anywhere. Draco schooled the look on his face into a pleased expression. “Very nice. I suppose Father insists that you take care of yourself?”

Potter looked up at him, bemused. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about your parents tonight, Malfoy.”

Draco tamped down his annoyance at the prod. “I don’t want to hear about them from you, really,” he managed calmly. “Now, come here and undress me. Like a proper lover,” he added with another smirk, sure that would set Potter off.

To Draco’s disappointment, aside from a bit of wariness, Potter followed his instructions to the letter. Small kisses were pressed to his neck, then to the flesh he revealed as Potter pulled open the robe Draco was wearing. Potter dropped the robe to the floor, and Draco was about to snap at him for that when Potter’s hand slid past the waistband of his silk boxers and wrapped around his cock, causing his brain to short-circuit. Fuck the robe. He could always buy a new one if it were ruined. He waited until his shorts had been pulled down to his feet, then stepped out of them before saying, “Suck it.”

Potter didn’t hesitate for a second, sinking to his knees and sucking Draco’s cock into his mouth. Draco desperately wanted to see the sight of Potter on his knees sucking on his cock, but it felt so good that his eyes slid shut, and it was all he could do to keep from sinking to his knees himself.

Sure, he’d had blowjobs before. There had been no shortage of offers from the girls in Slytherin, and then there had been a memorable twenty-first birthday party, when Blaise and Theo had treated him to an evening at a rather posh Wizarding brothel on the outskirts of London. Still, none of that had felt nearly as exquisite as having Harry Potter sucking his cock.

He didn’t want this over before it even started, though. “Stop, Pott… Veridian.” He tugged at the shaggy hair for a bit of emphasis.

Red lips slid off his cock, those eyes slitted as he looked up at Draco. “James,” he said in a voice husky from what he’d been doing.

Draco shrugged. “Whatever. Get on the bed,” he said, moving to the bedside table to retrieve the lube. He’d looked into how this was done while he’d debated with himself. After all, he hadn’t wanted to look like a fool when it came down to the act itself. And now, with Harry Potter laying on his bed, he was especially glad he read up on it. There was no way he wanted Potter having any clue he’d never done this before.

When he turned back to the bed, Potter was spread out in an especially provocative pose: his legs were spread, one knee up, the foot of that leg flat on the bed, displaying himself to best effect. It was enough to make Draco drool. The look on his face, though… “Stop looking as though I’m about to use an Unforgivable on you. It’s not as though you haven’t done this before.”

Potter’s eyes closed, and when he opened them again, there was a gleam in them that hadn’t been there before. “Every client is different, and I never know quite what to expect. But I apologize if I in any way upset you.” He looked calmer, but still…

Draco settled onto the bed, feeling a bit overwhelmed now that he was here doing this. Now that Potter wasn’t looking like a bunny about to be eaten, all of Draco’s nerves had seen fit to make an appearance. To calm himself, he set the lube where he could reach it, then stretched out along Potter’s side so that he could touch him easily. He’d never really understood the need girls seemed to have to kiss everything they could, but now all he wanted to do was lie here and kiss every inch of Potter’s flesh. His lips covered Potter’s chest and shoulder, then his neck and up to his ear, but when he moved to kiss Potter’s lips, he was pushed away.

“No.” Potter’s face took on the determined look Draco recalled from school.

“What? With the amount I’m paying you for this…”

“Please,” Potter sneered, “like we don’t both know your father’s the one paying for all this. If you want _that_ , you’ll have to go find someone who’s willing, Malfoy. Because I won’t.”

Draco glowered at him for a moment, then nodded. “Fine, then.” He pushed Potter’s leg aside a bit rougher than absolutely necessary, then reached for the lube and coated his fingers. He settled between Potter’s legs and let his hand explore until he found the opening he was searching for. He pushed a finger in, and watched as Potter shifted, wincing just lightly. Draco had read that the first bit could hurt or sting, but Potter didn’t seem to be complaining, so he continued.

He felt around for the spot the books had mentioned, and could tell he’d hit it when Potter twisted as though he’d been stung, then groaned, arching his back up off the bed and pushing down onto Draco’s fingers. Just watching him writhe like that had Draco’s breaths coming in pants. He wasn’t ready to try giving a blowjob, especially to someone he was paying to pleasure _himself_ , so he busied himself by kissing the chest and neck in front of him again, getting lost in the taste and texture of his skin.

It wasn’t long before he was so intoxicated by Potter that he was simply unable to restrain himself from kissing him on the lips. The moment threaded out between them, and for a heart-stopping moment, Draco thought Potter would actually kiss him back. Then, he was snarling at Draco, pushing up against him and rolling out from under him as he tried to get away.

Draco blinked at him, too shocked to respond for a moment as Potter began to pull on his discarded clothes. When he recovered, though, he was furious. “What the hell are you doing?” he snarled. “We aren’t finished yet.”

“We are. If you can’t follow one simple request,” Potter spat back, pulling on his shirt, “then why should I trust you with the rest? Don’t worry, I’ll only charge your daddy for the blowjob.” And then, before Draco could say another word, Potter was gone as quickly as he’d appeared.

Draco slumped back on the bed. Well, that had gone badly, hadn’t it?

He ended up using the lube on himself that night as he wanked, an image of bright green eyes sharp in his mind.  



End file.
